Royal Mistake #4 Read online

  What is that saying? The one that says if you don’t learn from your mistakes you’re doomed to repeat them? Clearly, I have not learned a damn thing.

  I march onto the plane, sit down, and pull my bottle of pills from my bag.

  Andrew sits in the seat next to me, slinging his arm around my shoulder.

  I down one of the pills and hand the bottle to Andrew. He glances at the label before he opens it and takes one himself, swallowing it dry.

  He looks over at me as he hands me back the medicine. “Victoria, I want you to understand that I’ll not be hiding my feelings for you any longer. When we get back to Montovia, we can sleep in the gardener’s cottage together each night and I’ll not hear a word about it from anyone.” He pauses and I’m not able to read his expression. “And if I have anything to say about it, we’ll avoid airplanes in the future forever if we can.”

  I hold back my laughter. “I seem to remember someone telling me Montovia was a long boat ride from the States.”

  He chuckles and takes my hand, kissing the back of each of my fingers. “I’ve already told you, you’ll never want for anything. You’ll never need to leave Montovia again.”

  I can only shake my head.

  He reclines our seats and pulls me against him into our usual sleeping arrangement, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull my back against his chest.

  Andrew tips his head and whispers in my ear. His voice is already groggy—even with the small amount of sleep we each got today, I’m sure it wasn’t enough for either of us. “Sleep now, Victoria. For when we arrive back In Montovia, I plan to keep you awake for at least a day.”

  I close my eyes and smile.

  My secret can wait. If I even have to tell him at all.

  Andrew wakes me with a kiss to my temple when we reach Montovia.

  I sit up and look over at him, my brow furrowed. “I slept…the entire trip?”

  He shrugs and gives me a small smile. “I couldn’t bear to wake you. If I had been sleeping so soundly, I wouldn’t have wanted to be awakened, either.” He brushes a strand of hair away from my forehead. “I’m unfortunately all too aware of the effects of sleep deprivation.”

  “But you should have at least rested—”

  “And I have.” He smiles. “You’ve no need to worry, Victoria. I’ll be able to stay up with you tonight.” He chuckles. “It’s already late afternoon. I’ll only need to make some amends with my parents for my absence and attend the dinner we’ve already had planned. You should join us.”

  “And by us, you mean—”

  He interrupts with a nod. “Yes, my female suitors. All five of them have been invited to this dinner.” He lets out a long sigh. “I know this won’t be easy for you, but you really should attend. As a journalist, of course.”

  I suppress my urge to roll my eyes. “Of course.”

  “And afterward…” He grins. “Afterward, we’ll retire to the gardener’s cottage. And when Lady Clarissa attempts to make a scene, which she no doubt will—”

  I groan. “No. Please, Andrew, just no. I…appreciate your willingness to have this…” I frown and stare at him. “This relationship out in the open, but I’m not. I don’t want to be pulled into it.”

  His forehead wrinkles. “Into what?”

  “Your…parade of potential brides. I don’t really know what you’re calling it these days, but I don’t want any part of it. If you really and honestly think I have to bear witness to this dinner tonight for professional reasons, I will. But know that I’m doing it against my better judgment.”

  He frowns. “I no longer wish to hide my feelings for you.” He motions behind him with a wave of his hand. “I told you that when we were in that filthy motel—”

  “That motel is not filthy. It’s dated. And the carpet needs replacing. But it was not filthy, Andrew. I’ve known the owners of that place my entire life. You can’t just pass judgment—”

  “Are we really to argue about the state of that place? There is no argument to be made, Victoria. No way you can justify—”

  “I don’t have to justify anything, Andrew. And let me remind you, you were the one who suggested it would be a good idea for me to leave Montovia in the first place. I’m not sure where you expected me to go—”

  “I expected you to return to Los Angeles. To your job. I expected you to continue to work on my story as we had agreed.” He heaves another sigh. “I spent the better part of the flight home attempting to reason why you would have chosen to return to your family home instead of your residence in Los Angeles—the place you have lived the past five years, and I—”

  “It’s none of your business, Your Highness. And I already told you—my uncle needed help in the store, and I was available, so I offered my help. Is that really such a big deal?”

  His mouth falls open and he stares at me. “No. I suppose it is not.”

  “Good.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to get settled in my room. And I don’t think I’m up for one of your shows tonight.”

  “My shows?” His brow furrows again. “Victoria, you’re well aware that nothing I am doing is a show. It is all in the name of my duty to Montovia—”

  “Yes, I am all too aware of that.” My jaw clenches. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  He gives me the smallest of smiles. “No, it does not. Nor does it mean I must like it. Though, it does mean I must attend. And as I’ve already stated, I would like you by my side when I do.”

  I close my eyes. When I open them, I meet his gaze, shaking my head. “You don’t really want me by your side, though. You want a buffer. You want someone to shove between you and Lady Clarissa. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? The heat was getting too high in the kitchen and—”

  “We won’t be touring the kitchens so I have no idea what you’re speaking of, Victoria.”

  I let out a groan of exasperation. “It’s too sticky of a situation—”

  “Perhaps you could do away with the American euphemisms for a moment and tell me what you mean—”

  “Ugh, I thought that was what I was doing.” I fold my arms over my chest. “It’s getting hard for you—having five women here. The stakes are higher now, especially since they all know about this charade of yours—”

  “All but Justine.” He swallows hard. “I mean, she knows. But like Lady Clarissa, Princess Justine also believes she is the only candidate with a future as my wife.”

  I press my lips in a hard line. “You haven’t told her.” I already know the answer, so there’s no need to phrase it as a question.

  “Not in so many words.” His frown deepens. “No. I haven’t told her. She believes she is here because her father believes the two of us to be a suitable match.”

  I nod. “And it’s not untrue. See? It’s not a bad place to start. You like her. She’s able to carry on conversations about things you care about. I saw it with my own eyes at breakfast the morning I left.”

  Something in his gaze softens before he looks to the floor.

  “You like her. It’s okay for you to like her, Andrew.”

  He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to mine.

  “It is. It really is fine. And you should pursue her. You’d have beautiful children, you and Justine. And maybe when you choose her, her father will return the scepter to you both as a wedding gift.”

  “Why must you do this, Victoria?” His gaze narrows. “Why?”

  “Why must I do what?”

  His jaw tightens. “This. Whatever you are doing. Attempting to be understanding. Attempting to help me make the right choice—”

  “Because you asked me to help you, Andrew. That’s why I came here—not to hook up with you in the gardener’s cottage. You promised me a creative challenge…well, I’m helping you. I’m giving you my creative insights.”

  He shakes his head. “Your insights are for me to end the pageant and return to Justine. However, I’ve already explained
to you that it is much more difficult a situation than simply agreeing to marry the woman. I would also likely have to make a formal apology to her kingdom—”

  “Which you should do regardless, Your Highness.” I fold my arms across my chest again. “Look, Andrew. You wanted me to help, and I’m here to help. You want me to help you with your publicity, which I’m also happy to do for you, but you have to stop fighting what I’m saying to you. The first thing you need to do is go to that dinner and apologize to every last one of those women, starting with Lady Clarissa who was the first to arrive.”

  He closes his eyes and gives a slow shake of his head.

  “The second thing you need to do is tell Princess Justine that you find her attractive. That you understand what she’s giving up to be here with you—”

  “She’s giving up nothing. She seems all too willing to be here, and that in itself is suspicious.” He pauses. “When I do send her back, I’ll not send her alone. She’s much more William’s age than she is mine, and I don’t see how having William escort her back to her country would in any way be a slight against her father.”

  I level my gaze at him. “Of course it isn’t.”

  He’s silent a moment before he speaks again. “You forgot the third thing, Victoria.”

  My brow furrows again. “I didn’t say anything about a third thing, Andrew.”

  His lips curl into a slow smile. “No. But I did” He walks to me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against him into a tight hug. He tilts his head to whisper into my ear. “There is a third thing, Victoria.”

  I close my eyes at his touch. “I know. You said it in Oregon. You care. And I’m glad you do, Andrew, but it isn’t—”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said in that motel. About the choice you would have me make.”

  I press my forehead against his chest. This is it. He’s chosen. I nod against his shirt. “Justine. I told you to choose Justine. I’m…glad you used your time on the plane wisely and finally came to your senses.” I tip my head up so I can meet his gaze. “I know the two of you will have a fine life together—”

  He interrupts with a shake of his head. “No, not that part. It was when you said we both deserved to love someone we could share our life with.” He pauses. “You realize, you included yourself in that statement.”

  I nod. “I know. I do deserve to have someone to share my life with, Andrew. And it’s fine that it isn’t you—it’s what I was trying to tell you in Oregon. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since this all started. I’ll be okay. I can’t give you the life you want, anyway, not that it makes any difference. I’m not a princess. I’m not a lady. And beyond that, Andrew, I can’t—”

  “Oh, you are very much a lady.” He tips my chin so he can look into my eyes. “And I did spend a great deal of time thinking on our plane ride home.” He lets out a long sigh and grins, dropping his hand away from my face. “And I’ve made a decision, Victoria.”

  My brow furrows. “Justine?”

  He shakes his head. “No. You.”

  Andrew

  Victoria stares up at me, unblinking. For a moment I think she hasn’t heard me correctly. Why else wouldn’t she have a reaction to such a statement?

  “None of those women matter to me,” I say. “Any time I spend with them is spent wishing you were by my side instead. And yes—that includes Princess Justine.”

  I expect her to smile. To grab me and kiss me. Instead, she shakes her head and pulls away from me.

  “You have to stop saying things like that,” she says. “We’ve already gone over this. This thing between you and me has to end, so let’s stop pretending that—”

  “Does it have to end?”

  “Of course it does. We both knew this was never going to last.”

  She says it with such conviction that I can only stare at her. She’s not entirely wrong—I never expected what she and I had to be anything more than a pleasant fling before my impending matrimony. But somewhere along the way something shifted for me. I find myself more and more willing to risk everything, to forget my duty and to choose my own desires…but if she doesn’t feel the same way, if she still sees this as an arrangement with an expiration date, then I can’t get ahead of myself.

  “We should probably get off the plane,” I say. “I’m sure we both have things to do before dinner tonight.”

  She doesn’t say a word to me as we descend onto the tarmac. Perhaps she’s second-guessing her decision to return to Montovia. Or perhaps I shouldn’t have been so forward with her. I thought she wanted me to confess my feelings for her—but now I’m wondering if I might have scared her instead.

  Be careful, I tell myself. Don’t risk everything for someone who isn’t certain.

  Still, when we reach the palace and I watch her walk away toward her room, I find myself staring after her, sad to be apart from her even for a couple of hours.

  I slept for a few hours on the plane, but I spent most of the time staring at her, afraid to close my eyes for fear she’d somehow walk out of my life again. When did that happen? When did she get so thoroughly under my skin? I’ve spent my whole life being so certain about who I am, about what I need and want to do, and this one woman has suddenly made me question everything.

  I make it all the way to my suite before I change my mind. I walk right past my door and straight to the guest quarters. I knock on Victoria’s door, not even caring if Lady Clarissa can hear me from next door.

  A moment later, the door opens and Victoria looks up at me with a confused look in her eyes.

  “What—?”

  Her voice cuts out as my mouth comes down on hers. My arms close around her, dragging her against my chest, trying to be closer to her.

  She seems to get over her surprise quickly. Her arms loop around my neck, and I back her into her room, kicking the door shut behind us. My hands slip beneath the back of her shirt, running over her bare skin.

  She tears her mouth away from mine.

  “While this is fun, we have a dinner to prepare for,” she says. “I need to get my notes ready, and considering we just spent half a day on a plane, I should probably shower—”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here,” I say, nuzzling her cheek with my nose. “I thought I might join you for that shower.”

  She hesitates. I lean forward a little, letting my tongue slide across the edge of her ear.

  “We’d actually have to shower,” she says. “Seriously—I’m not going out in front of those people until I’ve gotten this plane stink off of me.”

  “I think you smell quite nice,” I say. Her honey-autumn scent that I missed so much is still there. “But I think a real shower can be arranged.”

  I don’t wait for her answer. Without warning, I reach down and grab her ass, lifting her. Her legs hook around my waist as I carry her toward the washroom.

  Maybe I frightened her by telling her I chose her over Princess Justine. But if I can’t speak to her about my intentions, then I can communicate with her in other ways. Ways our bodies understand. Her lips might continue to insist I marry Justine, but right now her mouth is busy with other things.

  I flick on the shower without setting her down. My mouth continues to devour hers as I wait for the stream to warm up, and once the water is a comfortable temperature, I step into the shower.

  She gasps as the water washes over us, pulling away from me again. “Our clothes!”

  “Ah, yes,” I say, finally setting her down. “Let’s fix that.”

  I practically tear her out of her clothes. I toss the wet garments onto the tile floor outside the shower before helping her pull off my things. And then I grab her again so quickly and so tightly that she lets out a squeak.

  I kiss her fiercely, wanting to drink her in, wanting to make up for the week we’ve spent apart. I didn’t know my body could miss someone this much. Didn’t know it could feel so hollow. But now she’s here in my arms again, and I plan to take advantage of
every minute.

  “We…actually…have…to…shower…” she chokes out between kisses.

  Ah, yes. I did promise that, didn’t I? My cock aches to be inside her, but if she wants to drag this out, then I’m willing to play along.

  I reach over to the porcelain tray on the edge of the shower and grab the bar of fragrant soap provided for her. I bring it to her back as I dip my head to kiss her again. As our lips tangle, I slide the soap gently across her skin, letting it glide over her perfect curves from the nape of her neck to the swell of her bottom and then back up again.

  When her back is clean, I pull my mouth away from hers.

  “Front next,” I murmur, bringing the soap around to her stomach. I move it up her body, circling one breast and then the other. Her breath catches, but I refuse to slide the bar across either of her nipples. Instead, I tease her, brushing my lips against her neck as I move the soap across her collarbone.

  “Now your arms,” I say. I take her left hand and raise her arm, sliding the soap down the length of it and then back again. I do the same with her right arm.

  “Now your legs.” My voice is thicker now. I lower myself to my knees in front of her, pulling the soap down the length of her body as I do. Now my face is right at the place where her legs join, and it takes all of the strength in my body not to lean forward and slide my tongue against the delicate skin there.

  I take my time with her legs, moving even more slowly than before. My fingers drag the bar of soap gently down her left leg, all the way to the ankle and then back up again. I slide the bar across the front of her hips, right above the spot where I know she’s aching for me to touch her, but I keep my touch chaste. I repeat the motions down the length of her right leg.

  “I…I think that’s everything,” she says, a slight quiver in her voice.

  I rise, rubbing the bar of soap against my hand to create more suds. “Is it?”

  She nods. Wet strands of hair cling to her face. “I think I’m clean now.”

  “Mm.” I say. “I don’t know. I think there’s still one place we should clean.”